


Blood So Red it’s Sweet

by RedFae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Armitage Hux has PTSD, Attempted Suicide, Eventually things get better, Force Choking, Gingerpilot, Graphic Depictions of Torture, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, M/M, Mental Abuse, Non-con Body Modification, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rescue Mission, Spy Armitage Hux, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, forced therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:01:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22572919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFae/pseuds/RedFae
Summary: Armitage Hux got tired of being the universe’s punching bag years ago. He took his fate into his own hands and decided that he would make something worthwhile of his life. He began to sabotage the First Order from the inside. Directing Starkiller base’s construction combined with navigating his relationship with Ren was wearing him thin though and eventually he slipped up, leading him to get caught as a spy. After months of torture the resistance come to his rescue, which is odd because he never worked with the resistance. They seemed determined to help him however, despite the fact he feels he far too broken for redemption.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Poe Dameron
Comments: 22
Kudos: 143





	1. Cherry Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my first ever attempt at writing a fanfic so I hope it isn’t too bad! I’m always open to constructive criticism and if you like it then a comment or kudos would really make my day!

Armitage Hux was many things. He was a General, he was an engineering genius, and if rumors were to be believed he was also the lover of one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy. If one was looking to be technical then all these things were indeed true. Well...most of them at least. 

He’d never actually gotten any further than kissing the aforementioned most dangerous man in the galaxy. Not that it bothered him at all. They were however in a rather tumultuous relationship and had been for some time. Other than that though all of these things were true and in fact many of them were defining characteristics of the man. 

Currently, Armitage Hux was also standing on a stage currently, looking out into the faces of thousands of soldiers whose names he would never know and who would only ever know him from afar. 

“This is the last day of the Republic!” his voice echoed from the stage as soft snowflakes began to fall upon the once peaceful planet. The planet that now turned into a killing machine and for a moment everything faded away and all that filled his vision was red. 

It was a bright red, scorching and devouring like a fire that ravaged a forest and left nothing except carnage in its path. At least from a fire though there came a new start. Plants would begin to grow from the soil once more, healthier than before and with less competition for food. 

With this there would be no new beginning. No seedlings that would rise from the ashes stronger and better off. 

There would just be carnage, nothing except space dust that was made up of millions of people’s lives. 

He watched in horror as the red slowly faded away from his vision, leaving him with a view of nothing except the space where three planets used to have stood. Empty. 

In the blink of an eye all life in that system had been eradicated and he was the one responsible for it. 

This was all wrong, this wasn't the plan. He wasn’t supposed to be standing in front of a cheering crowd as the echoes of millions of voices played in his head, screams of their final moments and pictures of the horror that must’ve been etched onto their faces as they realized their impending doom and how there was nothing that could be done about it…

“Hux!” A sharp voice suddenly said, a voice that wasn’t his. Instead it was the voice of one Kylo Ren, master of the knights of Ren, killer of Jedi, and the man currently sharing Hux’s bed. 

The ginger bolted upright, sweating bullets as his blue eyes frantically glanced around the room, trying to determine where he was and what had happened. Thankfully he’d woken up in this room many times before and, even though he was much more frazzled than he usually was he quickly put everything together in his mind. 

Ren must’ve brought him back to his room after his shift last night and if his growing awareness of how sore he was was any indication, Ren hadn’t been happy about something. 

“Are you alright?” The raven asked from beside him, his large hands coming up to gently massage at his shoulders and work out the knot that was there. At first he flinched away from the touch but eventually he melted into it, deciding to savor the gentleness that was being shown to him. 

He hadn’t always reacted so quickly to the small touches of comfort that were offered to him. In the beginning he would deny them and fight Ren when he tried to insist upon them. He thought it was weak to accept such things and wouldn’t be seen that way by his co-commander. As time passed though the touches slowly got rougher and instead of aiming to soothe his pain they began to cause it. 

The gentle touches became a rarity as Ren delved deeper into darkness, dragging him down with him it seemed. There were precious little amount of gentle things in this cruel universe though so, he’d learned not to take them for granted. 

“I’m fine” he answered, lying easily through his teeth as he took a few deep breaths. What was he supposed to do? Tell Ren that he’d just had a nightmare about the very thing he was trying to build right now? As if. 

Instead he simply took a few more breaths, counting down from ten in his head. Once he got to one none of this would matter. He wouldn’t have a sore body from one of ren’s little outbursts, he wouldn’t be shaken up by some nightmare, and he most certainly would not be thinking about picking up his datapad and reaching out to the only person he knew to reach out to when he was in such a sorry state.

Ten…

Nine…

Eight…

But what if something had gone wrong? What if that nightmare was more than just a dream and instead was some sort of vision of the future? What if the plan he’d carefully concocted for months somehow failed? No...there was no time for thoughts like that. 

Seven…

Six…

Five…

Four…

Three…

Two….

One…

He took a final deep breath before getting out of the bed, leaving Kylo looking like a kicked puppy as he left him alone in the room. Instead of paying any mind to him he strode off towards the refresher and tried his best to simply go through his usual morning routine.

He’d fallen asleep in his uniform and judging by the time blinking at him from the corner of his datapad he didn’t have a chance to run back to his personal quarters to get a new one. He did his best with what he could find around the refresher and what little official clothing Ren had stocked up. 

By the time he had to leave to get to the bridge he still wasn’t satisfied with his appearance. His red hair was gelled back in it’s usual style and his uniform had most of the wrinkles pressed out of it but those details couldn’t hide the haggard state he was in. 

There were dark bags underneath his eyes from lack of sleep and he looked paler than usual. There were even hints of bruises from underneath his uniform, staining his pale white skin with dark purple and sickly yellow looking tones.

He pulled up his gloves to hide the bruises around his wrist that looked suspiciously like fingerprints but that was really all he could do. The collar on his uniform didn’t go high enough to cover the ones littering his neck or the bottom of his jawline. 

He glanced over to Kylo, pressing his lips in a thin line as he saw the man getting dressed as well. He straightened up his posture and clasped his hands behind his back as he started to stride off towards the door, hoping that today was a day when Ren had better things to do than bother him or his crew. 

Unfortunately it seemed the universe had no such plans and as the door in front of him slid open with a hiss he heard Ren calling out. 

“Are you not going to have breakfast darling?” The larger man asked from his spot a few feet away from the door, a concerned look on his face as he reached out and pressed a button, making the door slid shut once more and essentially trapping him in the room with the other man. 

For a moment he felt his heart sped up, pounding quickly in his chest as adrenaline flooded his system. He felt like an animal in a cage, staring into the eyes of the man who locked it. 

“I’m already running late for my shift Kylo, I can’t afford any more delay” he eventually said, leveling him with his cold blue eyes as he paced back towards the bed, using the movement to hide the nerves. “So please open the door again so I can get to my duties” 

Kylo gave him an odd look at that, a mixture of hurt and anger in the deep brown eyes of his. His fists clenched at his sides and his lips settled in that famous pout of his. 

“You’re duties can wait, you’re thin as a stick Armie. You need to eat something or you’ll work yourself to death” Kylo said, sounding worried and genuinely concerned over the fact that Hux hadn’t eaten in at least a cycle. 

His worried tone had little effect on the red head though, leading him to simply scowl and huff. “I’ve told you not to call me Armie before Kylo. I despise the name just about as much as I despise you trying to meddle with things that aren’t yours to meddle with. That being said I’m going to ask you again, let me out” he said sternly. 

If looks could kill then Kylo would most certainly be dead by this point as the blue eyes of Hux bore into him.

The two glared with each other for a second, neither one willing to bend and relent. The air between them was tense enough that one word from either party would most likely lead to things blowing up between them. This wasn’t new of course, their relationship was just about as volatile as the krystal Ren built his stupid light saber with. 

“I’ll let you out once you eat” Kylo growled as he advanced towards Hux. The male was taller than him and had a look of growing annoyance on his face and yet Hux didn’t step back. He simply watched him evenly as he approached until they were mere inches apart, their faces separated only by a step that neither of them took. 

“You forget yourself Hux. You’re mine and I take care of what’s mine” Kylo hissed, reaching out before Hux could reply and pushing him down into a seat. Hux’s hand shot up and grabbed onto Kylo’s wrist as a sneer crossed his face and he tightened his fist, watching the black fabric of the other man’s outfit crumple up underneath the leather of his gloves.

He opened his mouth to say something but was silenced as he caught sight of the way that Kylo was holding out his other hand, making it clear that he wouldn’t hesitate to bring it down against the stubborn redhead. 

“I’m not yours Ren” Hux said eventually, letting go of his wrist as he leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not anyone’s, despise what your ego may think” he commented in a clipped tone as he turned back to face the table and the bowl of rations that Kylo had set out for him. 

As much as he hated letting the other believe that he won he knew that sometimes there were battles that were best left alone. He didn’t need to spend more time arguing when he was already late and he didn’t feel like adding another bruise to the myriad of ones already littering his skin. 

He didn’t comment any more as he took the spoon and started to eat. Thankfully the rations were as bland as always, a fact that shouldn’t surprise him since he had come up with the nutrient powder it was made of. 

He was able to stomach most of the bowl before he started to feel sick and he became acutely aware of the fact that his stomach wasn’t used to being this full. He felt bloated already and for a moment he was worried that he wouldn’t fit into the rest of the uniforms in his room after this. 

It was an absurd thought, after all the uniform he was wearing right now was the same as every other uniform he had back in his own quarters. It’s not like this one had an extra stretchy waistband or anything. Besides, logically he knew that one session of eating a proper amount of food wouldn’t cause that drastic of results. It felt that way though. 

“Are you happy now?” He asked as he pushed the bowl towards the edge of the table so that Kylo could see that indeed he had eaten from it. “I played the part of your little dog, let me go and do my actual job,” he said, pushing himself out of his chair and once again and stalking towards the door. 

He didn’t give Kylo a chance to stop him this time as he punched in the code to open it up and walked into the hallway. 

As he made his way towards the bridge he started to calm down. The humiliation that came from giving into Ren’s request slowly faded away as his soldiers saluted to him and he saw the looks of respect in their eyes. Damn right they should respect him, he was their General after all.

A small smirk made its way onto his face and he took up his usual station at the head of the bridge. He looked down upon the people who worked under him, feeling pride as he watched his well oiled machine work away underneath. 

People scurried back and forth, others typed away at consoles with a determined look on their face, and yet some more still were busy with repairs and bent over an open console to fix the wiring or something along those lines. 

He almost would loathe to see the day that he introduced a flaw into the machine and watched in crumble underneath itself. Almost. In the same way that he’d help build up this organization he had prepared to take it down. He helped build the blueprints for every ship and every blaster that was currently in use and he damn well knew how to use that to his advantage.

There were times when he was ashamed of what he’s done, when he looked into the faces of his men and realized that he was part of the reason none of them had childhoods. He was part of the reason thousands of children would grow up without parents and have to one day ask what happened to them.

It was all for a good reason though. If he hadn’t done it, then someone else would and that someone wouldn’t have had as much mercy as he had. Granted there were times he’d been rather cruel himself but he always managed to justify it with the fact that he was making up for it. For every life he took he saved others by doing what he was doing. 

He snapped out of his musing when a beeping from the console to his right caught his attention. He turned to the officer working the station and silently raised an eyebrow to ask what was wrong.

Instead of getting an answer he watched as the flustered officer tried to fix it himself, probably hoping to impress him or at least hoping to get it fixed before he noticed the issue. It didn’t take long before he was able to figure out that the problem the officer was having was less than ideal and certainly did require the attention of someone more skilled in the mechanics area.

He walked down a ramp and approached the officer calmly, arms behind his back and a neutral look on his face. He didn’t want the already scared officer to get even more flustered and mess things up more. Besides, if he was remembering the crew correctly then this man was new on board. 

“What seems to be the problem?” He asked as he came to a stop beside him and leaned over his shoulder. He waited to be answered but, the poor man looked like he’d just put a blaster to his head. 

He let out a small sigh before leaning over and telling the man to move to the side. As he got a better look at the console he noticed that the problem was more dire than he’d thought.

“Move away” he said after a moment or two. “Everyone get away from the control system!” He snapped, turning on his heels as he watched his officers scramble away from their stations. 

He recognized the way that the panel in front of him was short circuiting and it did not mean good things. Somehow the system managed to overheat itself despite the procedures he’d put in place to stop that from happening. Normally a simple reset would have the problem fixed but the way in which the system was malfunctioning meant that you he’d have to cool it down manually.

Again, normally not a problem worth freaking out over but if this wasn’t dealt with in the correct way then they risked the entire system going up in flames. 

It left him wondering how this had happened. The system was so sophisticated that it would have alerted something was wrong much before this point, which meant that someone had to have tampered with the console when no one was looking. 

He could recognize an act of sabotage when he saw it and he couldn’t help but furrow his eyebrows in confusion. He wasn’t the one who’d messed with the system so, who had done it? Was there another person who was trying to work against the Order here? 

There was no time to think about that though as he quickly stripped out of his over coat, leaving him in the white tank top he wore underneath of it. He didn’t want to risk one of his nice jackets getting ruined by sweat and potentially burns if things went wrong.

He thought about simply calling a maintenance team but that would call attention to the damaged panel and the last thing he needed was someone else catching onto the fact that they had a saboteur on board this ship. Well...another one. 

Much to his relief there was a toolbox nearby that some technician had been using to fix a more minor repair and he quickly grabbed it. As he pulled out what he needed he neglected to realize that in taking off his jacket he’d exposed much of what he’d been trying so hard to cover up this morning. 

Dark bruises covered his back and his crew took notice. Of course he didn’t see the way that they glanced at each other, silently asking one another how their commander got to be in such rough shape. 

At the same time, most of them had a feeling that they already knew. It wasn’t uncommon for the general to be seen stumbling out of Kylo Ren’s chambers in the dead of night or in the morning before a shift and it also wasn’t uncommon for the two of them to be seen going at each other in the hallways, verbally or otherwise. 

Hux let out a small hiss as he got down on his back and used a driver to unscrew the panel underneath the console. The pressure against his back made him all the more aware of the damage having been done to it over the past few days. 

He peered up at the wires with a frown on his face as his mind started working to figure out the best way to deal with the problem. Someone had gone into the panel and slashed the wires with some crude knife or saw blade. It would explain the complete failure of most of the systems but it left even more questions in his mind. 

How the hell did someone get the time to do this without getting noticed? 

He would have to figure that out later. For now he had to focus on getting this damn console back in order so he didn’t end up with half of the bridge on fire. 

It took a good amount of work to get everything even close to being back in proper order. He ended up having to weld the wires together and needing to adjust parts of the circuit board so that it didn’t end up getting affected by the heat coming off of the metal inside the thing. 

Ideally their technology would be good enough that this wouldn’t be an issue, but they were still somewhat low on credits and couldn’t afford anything much more fancy on a large scale. 

As much as it annoyed him to have to put aside the ever growing amount of reports and plans that needed his attention, he did have to admit there was a little bit of calm that came with this sort of work. 

The methodical rearranging of wires and the predictable way that the lights inside the console would blink whenever he adjusted something. It almost made him miss the days before he’d been promoted to junior officer.

The days when he didn’t have to worry about underlings and dealing with the unpredictable nature of people. Mechanics never changed. If you connected two wires to a battery and placed the wires on a light, it would light up. 

There was no wondering if he would wake up with bruises when he simply dealt with ship engines and repairing radar function.

Those days were long behind him though and he pressed his lips into a thin frown. He had traded in mechanical parts for people, people he could sense currently staring at him. 

He didn’t have to look up to know that most of the officers were still watching him with a slack jawed expression and those who weren’t were glancing back to him every now and again. So long as they were still doing their work he didn’t mind too much. It’s not like he was doing anything wrong or scandalous after all. 

Well...he supposed in the eyes of some, what he was doing could be considered a breach of code. He’d taken off his jacket while still on shift and was doing a job that technically didn’t fall under him to do. He doubted anyone on the bridge was going to report him though and even if they did neither of the infractions were bad enough for more than a small reprimand.

He suddenly felt the atmosphere on the bridge change as he finished connecting two wires together. He could almost hear the way that everyone’s head snapped back down to their work as a set of heavy footsteps came closer. 

A small pool of dread began to gather in his stomach as he heard the telltale gait of Ren getting closer until he could see a pair of black boots standing beside the console he was working under through his peripheral vision. 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and for a moment he swore his heart stopped beating. 

If there was one thing Hux had learned through the years of being co-commanders with Ren, it was how to tell when the other man was angry. 

You could practically taste it in the air with the way the large man radiated it off of him and there was always a few moments before he lashed out that you could see the way his body shook, like he was trying to physically hold in the anger before it burst out of him. 

He was getting that feeling right now as he could feel the way that Ren’s eyes bore into him through his mask. He swallowed thickly, reminding himself that if Ren really was upset with him for something then there was hardly anything he could do to stop it. 

Instead of confronting the man about storming into his bridge for no apparent reason he simply focused on the task at hand. He took the disconnected end of one wire and with a slightly shaky hand he plugged it into the proper place inside of the side of the console.

A small sigh escaped him as the indicator light that was supposed to light up...didn’t. Oh perfect, this was worse than he thought. 

“General” Ren said, his heavily modulated voice coming out deep and intense. He wasn’t proud of it but he felt the sound in his gut and the blood drained from his face. 

“Ren. What do you want? Can’t you see I’m rather busy?” He asked sharply, his eyes narrowed as he tried not to let his voice waver too badly. 

He didn’t get an answer right away, instead he felt himself suddenly being pulled out from under the desk with the force, making him hiss softly in pain as his back was dragged across the hard floors and he was left staring up at Ren with wide eyes. 

He was still on his back but he quickly got to his feet. Being pliant and submissive to Kylo was one thing when they were in the privacy of their chambers and the only person he had to disappoint was himself but, he refused to show that side of him when he was on the bridge with the rest of his crew. 

“I can see that you’re disregarding your duties as General in favor of acting like a useless mechanic” Ren drawled out, taking a dangerous step towards Hux, who simply scowled at him and let his disdain for the man seep out of every pore in his being. 

“Mechanics aren’t useless Ren and I see no reason why me fixing an issue with our systems is something outside my job description. There wasn’t time to call a maintenance crew to take care of the issue so I simply did it myself” Hux said matter of factly, his words short and clipped as if he was trying to waste as little time on this conversation as possible. 

“Do you notice how the bridge isn’t on fire ren? Go on, use whatever semblance of intelligence you have to look around and process that little fact” the General growled out as he gestured around him. 

It was hardly a second before Hux felt the reaction from the force user. He gasped as his throat tightened up, making it difficult to take a breath as Ren stretched out a hand towards him. His blue eyes widened for a moment as he fought down the urge to claw at his throat in an attempt to unlatch whatever it was that constricted his breathing. 

Logically Hux knew that it wouldn’t help and he had always been one to listen to logic more than anything else. So, he simply kept his hands by his side and glowered at the force user in front of him until the edges of his vision started to go black.

Before he could pass out the pressure released, leaving him gasping for breath despite himself and rubbing a hand over his throat. 

His heart was pounding in his chest faster than he would’ve liked to admit and he hoped that the bridge crew wouldn’t be able to tell by his elevated breathing. 

His legs suddenly buckled underneath him and he was left on the floor, panting softly as he tried his best to regain his composure in the face of all his subordinates looking at him. 

He balled his hands into fists as a familiar weight kept him in his position and anger boiled up inside of his stomach. How dare Ren use his powers against him like this? Using them to humiliate him in front of his entire crew!

He could feel his patience running thin with the man, months of living in fear finally catching up to him. He let a scowl cross his face as the shadow of Ren loomed over him dangerously. 

The man knelt down and grasped his face in his gloved hand, saying nothing as he tilted his head from side to side as if he was inspecting him. 

“Unhand me Ren” he growled out, his blue eyes blazing with barley restrained anger as he tried to desperately grasp at the final threads of dignity that he had. 

His anger burned through him, sleeping out of his cold blue eyes like magma glowed beneath a planet’s surface. 

It was the type of anger that Hux hadn’t felt in a long time, the type that used to be reserved for his father and the old imperials who would abuse him.

He knew that they didn't hurt him out of malice, at least that wasn’t the only reason why they hurt him. He knew that they feared him, feared how brilliant his mind was and longed to destroy it before he destroyed the old fashioned world they held on to. 

They tried to break him, mold him into something useful for their aims that they could throw away once he’d outlived his usefulness. They were just like Ren.

Just like with them though he would refuse to break and Ren wouldn’t know how truly his manipulations had failed until it was too late. 

Ideally that revelation would come in the form of a knife through Ren’s ribs. He could almost feel the jubilation that would give him. 

Watching the surprise fill Ren’s eyes as he slid his dagger from his sleeve and before he could do anything the blade would find its mark pushing between the bones of the man’s sternum until blood started to drip down onto the floor, staining the usually polished floors with dark red splatters that would resemble stars scattered across the inky darkness in which he lived his life. 

How sweet would his blood taste as he licked it off of the rough leather of his gloves? Perhaps it would taste like the sweetest thing in the galaxy, like candy which hadn’t touched his tongue in years. 

Perhaps, like sugar it had rotted away Ren from the inside until there was nothing but a husk of a man left in his place. Maybe the blood would be as bitter and vile as the man it gave life to, a mutual corruption. 

The thoughts of how much he would savor Ren’s last moments allowed him a momentary distraction from his current humiliation. Of course the other man, if one could even call him that, wouldn’t allow him to keep to himself for too long. 

The grip on his skin didn’t loosen, instead he felt it tighten and the rough fabric of the gloves dug into his skin like small barbs. 

It seemed that he hadn't been the only one with violent fantasies filling his mind during their standoff and before he could register what was happening his body was suddenly thrown, leaving him gasping as his lithe frame collided with a nearby console. He couldn’t bite back the hiss of pain that escaped him. 

For a moment he simply laid there, his body thrumming with pain and his mind buzzing with too many emotions to process right now. His limbs felt like they were made of durasteel and porcelain at the same time. 

They were too heavy to properly move and yet the small twitches he managed made him feel as if cracks were beginning to show on his skin. Like his pain and desperation were seeping out from each bruise on his skin and if he moved too quickly he’d shatter, leaving nothing behind but the broken pieces of the mask he put on each day while his true self was laid bare before the judgemental eyes of his peers. 

He was many things but a fool wasn’t one of them. He knew that loyalty in the First Order ran deep. As much as some of his subordinates looked up to him and responded to his every beck and call, their loyalty wasn’t to him. 

Rather it was to what he stood for, A feared and competent General that would finally lead the galaxy into a new era of peace under the flag of the First Order. Should any part of his true self begin to shine through then he had no doubt what his fate would be. 

Hux finally began to stir once he felt something hit him. It took a moment for him to figure out what Ren had just haphazardly tossed his way but once he picked it up and saw the material he quickly put together that he was holding the jacket of his uniform. 

“Put it on, you look like some outer-rim who-”

“Don’t finish that sentence Ren” He rasped as he pushed himself up to his knees before standing up, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to do what he did everytime he felt like crumbling. He balled up his hands into tight fists and dug his nails into the flesh of his palm. 

The pain brought him back to his senses and gave him something to focus on that wasn’t his rapidly declining mental state. 

He managed to push away his emotions, mentally shoving them into a small box in the back of his mind that he would only ever open on the rough nights when he sought out the comfort of a strong bottle. Those nights were ever growing in number but, that was something he would refuse to address. 

For now he slipped back into the part he knew he had to play, the cold and emotionless commander of The Finalizer who wouldn’t be pushed around like this. It was a surprisingly easy part for him to play. 

Growing up in an environment as volatile as he had didn’t lend itself well to what most people would consider to be ‘Healthy Emotional Growth’ and ‘Fully Developed Social Skills.’ 

“You barge on to my bridge, insult me for doing my job, dare to use the force on me, and now you try to insult me? You are outside the military hierarchy Ren but that does not make you immune to the consequences of your actions' ' he hissed, words dripping venom as he stood up to the force user. 

He knew that if Ren wanted to he could argue back and jump start their usual cycle of bickering back and forth until something came up that got their attention away from whatever argument it was they were having. 

More often than not when that happened though he would end up with Ren in his quarters, yelling at him and throwing a tantrum until he tired himself out and either stormed off or went to sleep. 

The morning after was always the same though, some sort of guilt would fester inside of Ren and he’d come knocking at his door to fuss over him and apologize for what he’d said or done.

He supposed it made the other’s actions more bearable to his conscious or something like that. At least when he did horrible things he didn’t try to fool himself into thinking that a measly apology would make him feel better. 

If Ren was going to act like a monster the least he could do was be unrepentant about it. That way he didn’t have to feel bad for hating him so much. 

Much to his surprise he didn’t get an immediate answer from the other man. In fact he didn’t get an answer at all. Instead he watched as Ren tilted his head to the side, seemingly getting distracted from their current fighting by something. 

He had been around the other man long enough to be able to put together the various physical tells that he had. 

Unlike most people in the First Order, Ren didn’t carry himself with perfect posture and his head held high. 

He slunk around the ship with his shoulders hunched and tight, making him look like a predator ready to pounce on the nearest thing that moved. 

That sort of disregard for masking his body language like he’d masked his face meant that he could see every twitch the man made. The way that his shoulders relaxed for a moment and his breathing became rougher like it usually did when he was channeling the force. 

“You could at least have the decency to play with your little magical powers after we’ve finished this discussion Ren” he said with a frown on his face and annoyance seeping into his tone. 

“We’re going to Jakku” Ren said simply before turning and walking off, leaving Hux staring after him and reeling from what had happened within the last fifteen minutes or so. 

There was no time to truly think about Ren’s actions right now. That would come later when he inevitably met the man again by their quarters. For now though there was still a panel that needed to finish being fixed and a pile of paperwork to sift through.


	2. Given and Denied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I’m so overwhelmed by the positive response the first chapter of this got and I’m thrilled that you all like it so much! I’m sorry that this chapter seems so short but this past week has been extremely busy for me and I didn’t have much time to write. I still wanted to update this week though so I decided to cut this chapter in half and add the last part of it to the next chapter. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and as always any comments or kudos are appreciated!

It was official, Armitage Hux hated Jakku with every fiber of his being. He’d only been on the planet a matter of hours but he was already fairly sure that he would have no greater pleasure in life than leaving this hunk of sand behind once this mission was over. Everything about this damned trip left him wanting to kill someone or something.

Granted life on The Finalizer was anything but perfect. It was stressful, physically and mentally demanding, unpredictable, and more often than not boring. Between the hundred’s of reports flooding his datapad a day and trying to avoid the ire of two force user’s, his life wasn’t exactly easy. Still though, he would much prefer to be back on the bridge than where he was right now. 

He never thought that he’d miss the perfectly polished black floors or the air conditioning unit that kept the ship at a comfortable temperature. So many tiny things he’d always taken for granted and now he had to suffer without them. 

When Ren had said that they needed to go to Jakku he’d been less than happy about the request. For one thing it took him away from Starkiller base and it was much harder to sabotage the station when it took five standard hours for even the simplest of messages to go through on his datapad. Other than that he simply didn’t see the need to go to some backwater sand planet. 

From the perspective of a General it was a waste of resources that they couldn’t afford at such a vital time in the development of the Order. From the perspective of a saboteur the thought of allowing Ren to get his hands on something as important as the map to Luke Skywalker sent shivers down his spine. 

If Ren did manage to get that map then who knows what would happen? As much as he despised force users he would admit that Skywalker was a powerful one. Any hidden knowledge that Ren could get out of him might lead to a drastic shift in the tides of this war, a shift so large that even he couldn’t offset it with his plans. 

Between the Supreme Leader and Ren though he was outvoted and had no choice but to go along with the plan to move his ship to Jakku. He wouldn’t be so miserable if he’d been allowed to simply stay on the ship and complete his work like usual but no, the universe had decided to spite him once more and he had to be out leading a patrol of storm troopers through the shifting sands and hot sun. 

He was not made for this kind of weather, not with his pale skin that was burning even though he was still wearing his officer's cap to protect him from the sun, at least partially. Not to mention his lithe frame that wasn’t used to having to save water. 

The heat of the sun was almost unbearable and he couldn’t wait until he got to finally slip off his uniform and take a nice shower at the end of his shift. He was sweating awfully under the long sleeves of his uniform but he dared not remove the jacket again. Not after what happened last time he’d done such a thing. Instead he simply resigned himself to being miserable as sand got into places he didn’t know sand could get into and the sun beat down on him. 

He had been walking for what seemed like hours now and it was starting to get to him. His nerves were becoming frayed and with each minute that passed without sight of the small village they were looking his scowl deepened. His lungs burned from the physical exertion and everything started to blur together into a haze of golden sand and a bright blue sky. 

Eventually a village came into sight and he didn’t think he’d ever be so happy to see a dingy little town. He nearly fell to his knees at the sight of plain brown houses and a covered market place with scarce few people to be seen at all. It was a desolate place but, as long as it meant he could rest for a little while he wouldn’t complain about it.

He’d been marching through the desert for far too long tracking down some obscure lead that Ren claimed to have stumble upon. The map to Luke Skywalker was apparently in the possession of some old man in one of the many villages scattered across the desolate planet.

Of course Ren couldn’t even be useful enough to specify which village it was they were looking for, so here he was, Going from place to place trying to find someone he only had a vague description of while also trying not to pass out from heat exhaustion in front of his troops. 

Really it was quite the miracle he hadn’t dropped already. He didn’t exactly come into this mission in top shape. Of course he was fairly healthy, all officers had to maintain a certain standard of fitness but just because he could run a standard mile in under 7 minutes and do 60 push-ups in the same time didn’t mean that he could trek through miles and miles of sand, certainly not when he was running on fumes. 

With the launch of Starkiller base getting closer than he would’ve liked it meant that he spent more and more time not only doing official business but also working on the finishing touches of his plan to crumple the base beneath itself. Imploding a planet sized mega weapon wasn’t easy though, especially not when he was constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure that no one caught on to what he was doing. 

As they got closer to the village he stopped and turned around to the squad of stormtroopers behind him. 

“You all know what to do, search the village for the map and use whatever means necessary to put down those who try to get in your way” he said sternly. 

He received a quick salute in reply to show that the troopers had indeed listened to him and he let out a small hum of approval. It did occur to him that eventually he’d have to find a way to deal with the undying loyalty of the stormtroopers. 

It was unfortunate that the program had been developed before he began to work against the Order. It would’ve been so easy to tamper with the program while it was still in the early stages but alas he would just have to work with what the program was today. 

It was only about five more minutes of walking until they arrived at the village properly. Perhaps calling it a village was being too generous though. He watched as the squad behind him dispersed into pairs and began to systematically comb through the village. There was a part of him that was almost proud as he watched one pair of them corner a man who had been looking disdainfully at them and seemed more than a little suspect. 

He decided to step in and slowly walked forward, his gait seeming relaxed and confident as he came to a stop in front of the man, who he could now see wasn’t fully human like he’d initially thought he was. He had pale skin like a human but it had splotches of unnatural blues and greens mixed into it that left him looking sickly more than anything else. He didn’t truly care about the other man’s species but, it was helpful to know what kind of humanoids they could find on this planet. 

“Hello there” he said smoothly, giving the man a stern look as he settled into a parade rest with his arms behind his back. 

The man glared at him and let out a small grunt, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else right now.

Hux tilted his head to the side slightly, watching as his hand twitched towards his belt and the sun caught something metallic that was hidden by part of his shirt. Immediately he assumed the worst and drew his own blaster, not daring to take a risk with something as simple as this. 

He refused to be taken off guard by some scrappy scavenger who thought him too pretentious to be able to catch onto things like the draw of a blaster.

Without thought he leveled the muzzle of his own blaster towards the man, his finger on the trigger. He wouldn’t hesitate to fire on the man, should he prove to be so unwise as to think he could get away with such an action. 

Somewhere deep down there was a part of him that recoiled at the thought of killing a man in cold blood but that part of him had been suppressed years ago. He was a spy, not a saint and he wouldn’t have gotten where he was today if a little blood on his hands bothered him. 

“I would advise you to keep your hands up where we can see them and not make a scene” he said, voice even and commanding.

“And I would advise you to take your men and leave already. The people here won’t take well to being invaded by your lot” he growled and Hux rolled his eyes at the response. 

“What the people of this planet will take well is no concern of mine. We’re not here for the people. Should they provide resistance I won’t hesitate to order the full force of my men down upon this pitiful waste of a planet” he scowled, turning his lip up in disgust at the thought of having to spend another moment on this wasteland. 

“Now, I don’t wish to harm anyone here so why don’t you just go ahead and tell me what I want to know?” He purred, smirking at the man with a look that resembled that of a cat playing with it’s prey. No matter what the man said he’d end up dead where he stood. 

Either he claimed not to know and resisted, in which case he’d shoot him out of self defense or he played along in which case he’d shoot him to stop him from running back and alerting the man with whom he was in cahoots. 

The dangerous look on his face combined with the blaster he was holding seemed to do the trick as slowly the vibrado dropped away from the alien and he looked away. 

‘You’re here for that map thingy right?” He asked them hesitantly, to which Hux nodded his head and let out a hum to encourage him to keep talking. If he truly did know where the map was then it’s possible he could get to it before Ren did and destroy it so that he didn’t need to worry about it anymore. 

“A man came here a few days ago, a stranger. Holed himself up in an abandoned house for a while until another person came to meet him. He had a droid with him, a BB unit” The man said eventually, the words falling out of his mouth in a panicked way as Hux fingered the trigger of the blaster and gave him an unimpressed look. 

“I’m afraid i’m going to need more than that” He told him, raising an expectant eyebrow as he shifted his weight. “We know the map is here, I need names and locations” he elaborated.

“I don’t...I don’t know their names but the house is at the edge of the town. I don’t think you’ll have much luck getting to him now though. I’ve never seen him in the house during the day time, he probably goes off to scavenge or something along those lines…” 

Hux let out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose, growing weary of how the man in front of him grasped at straws and sputtered out the information. He doubted that he’d be able to get anything more useful from him however and he knew what to do. 

He leveled the man with a cold gaze, his blue eyes devoid of any emotion other than cruel indifference. His cold feet about killing civilians had long since abandoned him and in the many years he’d served as an officer his blaster had been warmed by the blood of countless people. 

As far as he was concerned there were no true civilians in the galaxy, not during a war like this. It was easier to do what needed to be done when he thought of it that way. Every person he killed saved countless more and that was all that mattered. Even if no one else saw his reasoning behind it and never would. 

Just before he pulled the trigger of his blaster he saw the man in front of him lunge forward, pulling something out of the belt of his waist band as he did. He quickly tried to sidestep it but the attack had caught him off guard and suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his side as a blade cut into his flesh. 

He gasped as blood began to soak through the sides of his uniform, staining the black fabric with a dark red. He reached out a hand to put pressure on the wound, grimacing as the pain made him let out a sharp hiss. 

The man tried to lunge at him again but before the blade of his knife could catch his skin once more he saw one of his Stormtroopers raise their blaster and fire off a shot right into the alien’s chest. 

The attacker slumped forward suddenly, the life draining from his eyes just as quickly as blood was seeping out of his own wound. 

A few droplets of blood splattered onto the sand below his feet, pooling together in macabre puddles of darkness. The way that the red liquid pouring out of him clashed against the pale yellow was almost beautiful. It created an odd orange color when he kicked his foot out to cover up the growing blood stains on the floor. 

He knew that he should be seeking out medical attention for the wound but, he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around what was happening enough to force his body to move. He was exhausted right now in every sense of the word. 

Physically the long trek through the desert had left him feeling as if he would collapse at any moment and mentally he could feel himself starting to become strained and weak. Too many nights without proper sleep and too many days without a good meal had left him a little sluggish and slow. 

He wouldn’t even be in this damned position if he’d not been stupid enough to let down his guard like that. It was a move he should've known better than to pull and a quick flash of white hot shame ran through him.

He was giving in to exactly what people like Ren wanted him to give into. They wanted to prove that he was somehow weak and undeserving of his title as General. In Ren’s specific case the man was looking for any sort of proof that he could get to show that he needed him, that he was incapable of being by his lonesome and still functioning. 

He was working himself down to the bone and should anyone else see him like this he didn’t know what he’d do. He’d probably die of shame right then and there. The great General Hux almost killed by some nobody on a mission meant for someone of a much lower rank than him. 

If there was one thing that he felt more than his exhaustion though it was his desire to maintain his pride. He could imagine the look that Ren would give him if he limped back to the ship in this sorry state. The way that his brown eyes would flash with amusement as he got told the story and the insufferable tone his voice would take on as he tried to lecture Hux once more that he needed him and couldn’t be without him. 

With his energy renewed by his hatred and need to spite Ren he pulled off the outer layer of his uniform to get a better look at the wound. It wasn’t the worst stab wound that he’d ever seen so, that was something. It was only after he suddenly felt his legs buckle underneath him and felt someone quickly grab him did he remember that there was a pair of stormtroopers here. 

He nodded tensley at the one who had grabbed his arm to keep him from falling before biting his lip as a sharp pain radiated from the stab wound. He recognized the trooper who had caught him as the same one who had shot the man when he was attacking him. 

“What’s your designation?” he asked the trooper, trying to keep his voice steady as he righted himself and got his feet under him once more. 

“FN-2187 sir” the trooper answered almost immediately and Hux nodded in response.

Based on the way that FN-2187 had reacted to everything he decided to remember the designation just in case it became useful later on. He hadn’t showed any hesitation in defending a higher ranking officer and looked ready to drag him all the way back to the ship if the way he was still supporting him and starting to grow more anxious was any indication. 

It wasn’t often that the storm trooper program produced such perfectly loyal and willing subjects. He would have to keep an eye on FN just in case he needed to be terminated.

Although...now that he thought about it there was a chance that he could use the other for his personal gains.

Clearly he was susceptible to reprogramming methods, which would most likely mean that he would also be able to be influenced by more rudimentary types of unconscious persuasion as well. Now that was something that he might find useful in the future should he need to quickly reprogram a thought into someone's head. 

None of that would matter if he bit the dust here though. His schemes and plans could wait for a time when he wasn't actively bleeding out.

“Go finish rounding up anyone suspicious for questioning, I can deal with the wound on my own'' he said as he turned to both that stormtroopers that were accompanying him before raising a hand and waving it in a sort of dismissal. 

He didn't give either of them any time to argue as he composed himself and strode off, biting the inside of his cheek to help him keep it together until he found a slightly hidden nook near the edge of town where he could finally try to deal with this whole problem. 

Thankfully, the wound wasn’t bleeding quite as badly as it had been before and by the time he found himself leaning up against a wall again he was able to figure out how to best deal with it. He took the knife he often kept in the sleeve of his uniform jacket and used it to slice off some of the fabric of his uniform. 

He doubted that there were any real medical centers around here and even if there were any they probably wouldn't open up their doors to someone the likes of him. 

It was an unfortunate situation but he could deal with it. He’d dealt with worse things in his life than a little nick at his side, even if said nick was starting to make him woozy from the amount of blood coming out of it. 

He pressed his lips together as he took the fabric scraps of his jacket and started to wrap them around the troublesome wound. It was a less than ideal way to solve the issue but with limited supplies it was the best he could do at the current moment. 

Before he’d started wrapping it he’d seen the way that some of the fibers from his undershirt seemed to have gotten into the exposed flesh, promising he’d have to deal with some sort of infection later on if he didn’t get this sorted quickly. 

Once he tied a few strips of fabric around his side he discarded the crumpled remains of his jacket unceremoniously into the sand. It would hardly serve him any good now and if he was going to try and avoid getting dragged back to the ship until he was in better shape then it would probably do good to try not to get recognized. 

There was probably a day or two grace period before his absence started to be questioned by Ren. Jakku wasn’t exactly small after all, just desolate and combined with the many relics scattered around the place it wouldn’t be out of the questions for him to have stopped to have some examined or excavated. 

It wasn’t unfeasible for him to go a day or so without reporting back. It was certainly out of his character but, he doubted anyone would miss his report too badly when there would be others coming from some of the lower ranking officers who had gone off with their own patrols to try and dig up information. 

He let a small sigh cross his lips as he ran a hand through his hair and a few strands of his bright red hair fell into his face. All the sweating he’d done earlier left most of the gel he’d meticulously applied to his hair useless and as he ran his hand through it again more of it came undone until most, if not all, of his hair was broken free from the strict style he usually kept it in. 

It felt odd to him to have his hair falling freely like this. Having to push some of it out of his eyes and tuck it behind his ears. It’s not like he went to sleep with his hair styled or anything but, he usually showered right before he went to sleep and that was also when he took care of his hair so he got maybe fifteen minutes at night with it in its natural state.

He looked up towards the sky and raised a hand to try and block most of the sun from getting in his eyes. It seemed like it was approaching dusk already if the way that the sun was nearing the horizon was any indication. 

He was surprised at how quickly it seemed the day had gone by before remembering that Not all planets had 24 hour cycles like he was used to on The Finalizer. It was very possible that Jakku had a shorter day and night cycle than that and in reality it had only been a few hours since they had arrived around midday. 

How much time had passed since they arrived didn’t truly matter right now. He had more important things to think about, most pressungly being where he would spend the night. He knew that deserts could reach freezing temperatures and if he wasn’t careful then he would be adding hypothermia to his list of problems. 

He didn't think that there would be a hotel of any sort around here. All the buildings looked the same, huts made out of this pale stone material that stood low to the ground and had nondescript entrances. 

He glanced down towards the wound once more and let out a small sound of relief as he didn’t see any more blood staining the black fabric he’d wrapped around it. He was sure that there was still bleeding but the fact he couldn’t see it left him feeling a little better about this whole situation he’d found himself in. 

He could deal with his limbs being physically worn out and running on fumes, he did that often enough but adding blood loss to it complicated things in a way that he was not prepared to handle at the moment. 

He decided that his best bet was to try and prey on the goodwill of some innocent civilian who would see a wounded person and help them. Preferably they wouldn’t ask too many questions but if it did get to that point then he could come up with a lie on the spot. He’d always been good at thinking on his feet in terms of acting and lying. 

It had always been a part of his life. When he was a child he constantly had to act tougher than he was and lie to keep himself out of trouble. Now that he thought about it, it was much the same story nowadays. 

He was tougher in a way, having learned how to shut off his emotions years ago, to not cry whenever he was hit and, he did lie pretty much everyday. There was the obvious lie he told, about being loyal to the first order but, there were other lies as well. 

Lies such as when he told Ren he loved him. Whenever he said that in particular he felt like his tongue had been burned from the words and a deep feeling of shame built inside of him. It reminded him that he was a coward, too concerned with trying to watch his own back to even tell Ren how he truly felt. 

It was just like when he was younger and used to cower before his own father, lips spilling lies to appease him rather than daring to say the truth. All because he was hoping to avoid one more session of being beaten? He was no fool, it would happen anyways. 

Despite how many times Ren held him afterwards and told him he was sorry, how he only ever did it for his own good and how he wouldn’t do it again, it was never true. He acted all kind and caring for perhaps another hour or two and then he went off to do something like training where something would happen to put him back in a bad mood and the cycle would start again. 

His blood boiled in his veins as he thought about how nothing in his life had changed. He spent years toiling and working harder than anyone else just to get out from under the thumb of his father and then, when the moment was right he’d taken his revenge. Or at least he’d tried to take his revenge. Now he was the exact same situation, trying his best to toil and work despite being under the control of someone who just wanted to hurt him.

He’d imaged doing to Ren exactly what he did to his father. Where his plan with his father failed though he would make sure that with Ren it succeeded. His father had died due to the infection that set in after he’d been attacked but Ren would die at his hand. He’d watch the life drain from his eyes slowly like he’d been denied all those years ago. 

He could still remember the moment when he was standing in front of the bacta tank his father was in, staring at his limp body with uncaring blue eyes. He remembered reaching forward and running a hand over the cool surface in front of him, anger pouring out of every pore in his skin as he was face to face with yet another one of his failures. 

He’d stabbed his father through the heart and somehow he survived. Most would call it a miracle, a gift from a benevolent god that a parent survived something like that but, not him. 

He saw it for what it really was, proof that the universe had decided Armitage Hux wasn’t worth wasting good fortune on.

If he wanted anything from this life then he’d have to rip it out from the cruel jaws of fate itself and bite down equally as hard on it to keep it. 

Unluckily for the universe he’d always been willing to bare his teeth and fight for what he wanted. For years he’d fought for his father’s admiration and, once he realized that was something he would never get he started to fight to make a name for himself. 

He would be the Hux that everyone remembered. By the time he was done the galaxy would sing his praises and the stars would glow brighter than ever at the mention of his name. 

He almost laughed out loud thinking about those thoughts again. To think he’d ever been naive enough to believe that his life would equate to anything as glorious as that. People knew him now for sure but, once he was dead and gone, what would people say? 

He’d be just another General in the history books, lined up next to the people he hated and worked his whole life to be better than. No one would know how he worked to bring down this empire that he’d helped to create. 

What people thought of him after he was dead was no concern of his though, he’d learned over the years that he couldn’t keep relying on foolhardy thoughts of grandeur and adoration to make him happy with his life. 

As far as he was concerned everyone had a purpose in life, his purpose simply didn’t include any of that. It included manipulation, lies, and abuse. It wasn’t a nice life but he had no room to complain about it when he’d ruined so many others. 

If only he could go back in time and-

“Ah!” He cried out suddenly as his legs gave out under him and he collapsed to the ground, a cloud of sand whipping around him as the wind picked up. 

He took a shaky breath as he tried to push himself back up to his feet but found he was too weak to do more than lean up against a wall and even then he couldn’t keep himself up for too long. Instead he ended up sliding down until he was sitting once more, his hand wrapped around his middle where he could once again feel blood starting to seep through his makeshift bandages. 

It felt warm against his hand and for a moment he pulled it back to get a look at how the dark red liquid stained his pale skin. 

His head pounded and he found that he was swaying slightly, unable to stop himself as the world around him slowly started to shift and blur together. This couldn’t be it, could it? He couldn’t die lying in the sands of some backwater planet!

Then again...he supposed it wasn’t the worst way to go. The sun was still in the process of going down which meant the horizon was painted a beautiful orange color, almost like his hair. The sand in the distance looked like glittering copper and the wind settled down to a cool breeze that ruffled his already messy hair. 

If he had to die then...this wasn’t a bad view to do it to. If he closed his eyes he could almost pretend he was back home, back on Arkanis where the wind blew like this and carried the scent of an oncoming storm on it. 

He could imagine that instead of sand being blown into his face it was rain drops he’d grown up being so familiar with. The same drops that he had counted with his mother when he couldn’t sleep during a thunderstorm and the same ones that washed away his tears as he heard his parents fighting for the first time. 

He closed his eyes and a peaceful breath escaped him. At least he’d die with his feet on the ground rather than in the cold, uncaring void of space. He always knew that he’d have to face death eventually and now that it was coming for him he couldn’t help but feel a spark of pride in the fact that he wasn’t afraid. 

Someone once told him that a true character of a man can be seen in how he faces death. Some men beg and barter, using their last breath to plead with whatever deity they believed in to try and scrape a few more handfuls of sand from the hourglass of time. Other men see death as something that blindsided them, leaving them gasping and panicking as they tried to figure out how their life went wrong and how they could somehow fix it. 

For once his mind, which was so used to constantly analyzing and thinking, slowed down. 

He smiled to himself as he imagined the sweet sound of rain against concrete, the feeling of a pair of warm arms wrapping around his body and holding him close, and a soothing voice telling him that everything would be alright. 

Oddly enough the voice wasn’t his mother’s and the hands were stronger than a woman’s would be. The voice was smooth and deep though, soothing to his ears as it wrapped him within a blanket of comfort. He figured that this was probably just his mind making an imaginary male figure of comfort to him since most the other men in his life were such sources of anguish for him day in and day out. 

For the first and perhaps last time in his life he felt a sense of total calm wash over him. His thoughts became less and less coherent as he spilled more blood onto the sand below him, polluting the innocent ground with his tainted blood. Eventually the only thing he could think about was what he thought was an imaged embrace with strong arms holding him close to someone's chest while rain poured around him and his mind faded slowly to black.


	3. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry the long delay between chapters. For some reason this one was just really hard to write for me. I promise I won't usually make you guys wait like a month! Anyways, I was wondering if you guys would be interested in the next chapter being from Kylo's perspective? As always comments are much appreciated! 
> 
> *TRIGGER WARNING*  
> Attempted suicide and talk of suicidal idealization at the end of the chapter

The first thing that came back to Hux wasn’t his sight, instead it was his sense of smell. The air around him was heavy with the scent of something that took him a few moments to identify. It was some sort of food, a hearty stew he would wager based on the way that he could smell meat being cooked right now. It was a thick scent that hung in the air and made itself so known that there was no way he could ignore it. 

After that he started to gain his hearing and the sounds of someone moving around in another room confirmed his suspicions. He could hear metal objects clanging together and the soft sound of feet shuffling against a wooden floor. For a few seconds he was confused, remembering that there were only carpeted and metal tiles on board the Finalizer. Perhaps he was just hearing something wrong though and when he opened his eyes he’d be greeted with the pale gray walls of his chambers and Ren would say something sickeningly Sweet about trying to be a ‘good boyfriend’ by cooking for him or something like that. 

For a few seconds he dreaded opening up his eyes. He just wanted to keep them closed and go back to sleep. At least when he was unconscious he didn’t have to worry about the fact that thousands of lives depended on him being able to pull off the almost impossible task of causing a megaweapon the size of a planet to implode. 

Aside from that thought there was also the fact that sleep provided him with the opportunity to escape to his mind safely. He could indulge in his deepest desires, like having a peaceful cup of tea while overlooking a vibrant garden filled with the most elegant and fragrant plants in the known galaxy. He often found that this garden was a sort of retreat for him, an escape. Whenever he felt Ren poking around in his mind he’d simply imagine this instead. There were enough sensations to fill his mind with thoughts other than his usual plans of sabotage. Like how the bitter tea he was drinking burned his throat slightly as he sipped it and how beautiful the Asyr flowers were at this time of year 

He’d first discovered the little safe haven in his mind when he was a cadet. He could still remember the first tentative steps he’d taken into it. Back then there was little more than a single sproutling nestled in the yellow grass but, it had been more than enough for his younger self. At first the only times he found himself in the garden was when he fell asleep at the end of a long day of work and training. As time passed though he slowly started to figure out more about the space within his mind. He slowly managed to train himself to go there at will, allowing him the ability to almost disassociate from the real world. He didn’t do it often, much preferring to be as present in the moment as possible just in case something happened that required that much mental energy. 

On choice occasions though things had gotten bad enough that he had to escape to his mind in order to spare himself the pain. If it were up to him then he wouldn’t remember those things at all but, the garden isn't that powerful. Afterall, it was just a construct of his own mind to help him find some sort of semblance of happiness in a lifetime that so far had given him little more than pain and sorrow. 

He closed his eyes tighter together and almost allowed himself to slip back into sleep before an odd sensation washed over him. He felt something hitting his face , something rough and grainy, something like sand...why the hell was there sand here and why was there enough of a breeze to cause it to fly into his face? 

He slowly opened up his eyes, a small groan passing by his lips as the bright lights above him hurt his eyes. After quickly blinking them a few times and allowing them a moment to adjust to the light level of the room, a few things quickly became apparent. For one, the bright lights that he thought had been above him turned out to be beams of sunlight streaming in through a window that was situated to his right. Secondly, the room he was in was most certainly not any room he was familiar with. The walls were made of an orange type of sandstone that he remembered was a common building material on Jakku. 

The revelation that he was in some odd room was only marginally less alarming as the memories of him getting stabbed came back to him. He could remember passing out in the sand, fairly sure that he wouldn’t wake up again and yet here he was, laying on some oddly comfortable bed without any major signs of danger and only a dull throbbing in his abdomen to show where he’d gotten attacked. 

He sat up gingerly so that he wouldn’t aggravate his injuries and attempted to do a quick inventory of himself. He was halfway surprised to find that his hands were unbound and he could move freely, meaning that whoever had patched him up either didn’t know who he was or thought him not to be a threat in his current state. As much as he hated to think of the implications of that last possibility he did have to admit he wasn’t in the best shape he could’ve been in. Even simply sitting up had caused more pain than he would’ve liked and a slight scowl crossed his face as the dull throbbing got sharper and his head spun for a moment. He supposed he hadn’t quite fully recovered from the loss of blood then. 

He finally glanced down to get a proper look at himself and noticed almost immediately that he was currently in a very different set of clothing than when he passed out. Instead of his tank top, his chest was now clothed in a dusty yellow shirt that clearly belonged to someone who did not share his body type. It was both too big for him and too small at the same time. Whoever it belonged to a larger build than he did, leading to the shirt slip off his shoulders whenever he moved around. They must’ve also been shorter than him too, if the way that the shirt barely made it down to his hips was any indication.

He could honestly care less about the shirt, he was more concerned with the fact that it implied someone had taken the time to undress him after dealing with his wounds. He became even more flustered over that specific point when he realized that the pants he was wearing also were not his own. They were a pair of black shorts made from a surprisingly breathable material rather than the stuffy cotton he was used to with his uniform. He knew that he shouldn’t be so embarrassed by the thought of someone changing his clothing but, he’d always been rather prudent and skittish about showing off any part of his body. 

He let out a soft sigh as a lock of red hair fell into his face and he quickly pushed it back in place. Without the usual gel to keep it back he would just have to make do with trying to keep it tucked behind his ears. After taking a deep and slightly unsteady breath he lifted up the shirt enough to get a good look at his side. The pale skin was wrapped up in a few layers of gauze that thankfully didn’t seem to be stained with blood, at least not enough to bleed through to the top layer. They seemed to be decently wrapped and considering the fact he was still alive he would say that whoever patched him up had some sort of medical experience. They probably weren’t a doctor but it was somewhat comforting to think that he was in slightly capable hands. He reached out to gently brush a hand over the place where the wound would be but before he could actually touch it he heard someone stop him. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you Red” a voice said from the door of the room and quickly he turned his head to see who it was that spoke to him. 

He was greeted by the sight of a man standing there with his arms crossed over a broad chest and a teasing smirk on his face. He could make out most of the other thanks to the bright sunlight that was still streaming in through the windows. He could see the dark brown curls that sat on top of his head, falling over his tanned skin in a way that looked a little too good to not be intentional. He could also make out the general physique of him, which led him to believe that he was wearing his clothing. He looked short enough that a shirt of his wouldn’t cover him all the way and his shoulders were certainly broader and more well built than his own. 

Overall he didn’t look like anything too special, sure, he was obviously muscular and was decent enough to look at but there were plenty of other handsome men he’d encountered throughout his life. Granted none of them had ever saved his life but that's besides the point. 

The only thing that made him raise an eyebrow was the fact that the other man was covering part of his face with a black masquerade style mask. It was nothing fancy but it did get the job of hiding his identity done. He didn’t recognize the man in front of him, although something about the voice did strike him as familiar, like he should know where it was from. He frowned slightly at that thought and his eyes scanned the man in front of him up and down once more, as if his scruffy appearance would help him put the pieces together in his head. 

“You gonna say anything Red?” the mysterious man asked through a small chuckle, snapping him out of his slight daze. “Don’t get me wrong, I'm not gonna complain if you need a few more seconds to savor the view” he grinned.

Hux rather immediately felt the urge to roll his eyes at the comment and he probably would’ve if he wasn’t too busy thinking of a sharp retort. He knew he should be thankful to this person for saving his life but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still bite back.

“I don’t talk to strangers, particularly not strangers who hide their face” he said eventually, deciding to stifle his more cutting comments for the time being. He looked pointedly at the mask on the other’s face and the man just shrugged apologetically. 

“Sorry about that Red, the mask stays. Can’t risk you going all crazy at the sight of my gorgeous face. No offense but I don’t think you could handle it in your delicate state.”

Hux fought hard to stop himself from saying anything scathing in reply to that. It was just such easy bait to work with, the comments were practically made for him. He forced himself to at least be cordial to him at least for now. While he was fairly sure that the man didn’t pose any threat to him he wasn’t about to test that theory by prodding at him verbally and insulting him. Instead he just let out a small huff and shook his head. 

“Alright then, if you refuse to show your face then can I at least know what to call you?” He asked, his brow twitching slightly. “And may I request you stop calling me that ridiculous nickname?” He added after a moment. 

Hux hadn’t thought that the man could get any more annoying but, the way that his grin quickly shifted into something much more smug and cocky proved him wrong. 

“Well, you can call me a lot of things. Your Savior, knight in shining armor, devilishly handsome, oh! The man of your dreams, how about that?” He said, the shiteating grin still on his face and a nearly insufferable tone in his voice. 

“Flyboy” Hux responded after a moment or two, giving the man a look as he shifted in the bed and a small hiss of pain escaped him. 

“Flyboy?” The other man asked, seeming a little put out by the lackluster nickname. 

“Yes, Flyboy. You are a pilot, correct?” Hux asked, raising an eyebrow as he asked the question even though he was fairly sure of the answer already. “Of course you are, only pilots are that confident and self absorbed.” 

His comment seemed to have thrown the other for a second or two, his smile faltering as a huff escaped him. 

“Alright Red, you got me there” he said eventually, running a hand through his curly brown locks to tuck them out of his face. “I guess I deserved that one, talking all about me when you might still be bleeding out. You’re not still bleeding out right? That would really stain those sheets and they aren’t mine” 

Hux glanced down to his side for a moment or two, spotting the white bandages and how they still didn’t seem to be stained with blood. That was a good sign at least, although he did wish that the rest of his body seemed to be doing as well as that wound. He was sore as all hell at the moment and it felt like with every movement his bones ached. 

“No, I suppose I’m not bleeding out. At least not enough to seep through the bandages” he said after a moment or two. “Although I will admit that I’ve felt better. How long have I been here? What happened?” He asked suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere. 

It had just occurred to him that he had no idea what happened after he passed out. The last thing he remembered was a feeling of comfort and safety as his limp body was lifted off of the sands. Then there was nothing. He had no clue how long he’d been passed out, if he was even still on Jakku, or even how bad his own injuries were. For all he knew he could’ve just been passed out for a few hours or it might’ve been a few days. 

“Uh...you’ve been here for a while. The day cycle here is pretty weird so I don’t know the exact time. You spent most of it passed out in my bed, although you did wake up a few times to eat and drink. Never talked though, this is the most alert I’ve seen you” He said, apparently deciding that there was no use in keeping secrets from the wounded male in his bed. 

The look that crossed Hux’s face was a mixture of relief and worry, a combination that frankly he hadn’t thought was possible. It was almost impressive how many emotions managed to course through Hux in such a short amount of time but, the truly impressive thing was how well he hid them. 

“Ah...I see. Well, thank you for your help” he said after a few seconds of silence between them. He could see the way that the other man, Flyboy as he’d decided to call him in his head, hesitated by the doorframe. He looked like he wanted to say something else about the topic but didn’t. Instead he just offered him a small smile. The sight was almost shocking to him. It was unlike the cocky and arrogant one he’d been sporting minutes earlier. Instead it was soft and he could just barely make out the way that the corners of his eyes crinkled fondly underneath his mask. 

The look of compassion filtered through his eyes and it shook him to the core. This man didn’t have any obligation to help him and yet here he was, spending his time and what he was sure was meager supplies to nurse him back to health. Why would someone do that? Especially to help him? He couldn’t help thinking that the man must want something in return, something worth all this trouble. People didn’t just give out this kind of help freely.

“What is it?” He asked him eventually as he averted his gaze to the floor. 

“What? What do you mean what is it?” Flyboy asked him back, seeming shocked by the question. 

“Don’t play dumb. What do you want from me? You do want something don’t you?” 

“Well...I mean sure. I want you to get better so I can have my bed back but something tells me that’s not what you meant is it?” He said, letting out a heavy sigh.

Hux frowned at the answer, feeling the desire to scream rise up inside of him. Of course he didn’t actually scream but he desperately wanted to. He wanted to scream at this kind stranger, demanding to know what the catch to his charity was and why he was like this. The universe wasn’t this kind without reason. He’d learned time and time again that comfort like this came at a cost, everything did. People who were truly selfless didn’t last long in this world. They were like lambs among a field of hungry wolves. Either they learned how to grow fangs themselves or they were devoured without mercy. 

“No, that’s not what I meant” He confirmed, looking down at the blanket that was pulled up to his chest. “You knew that though didn’t you?” he accused the pilot without looking at him. “I know your not dumb Flyboy and I’m not dumb either, so why don’t you drop this whole charade?” 

There was a beat of silence between them where neither of them moved. Hux’s hand balled up into fists while holding the thin blanket and his shoulders shook slightly, as if his body was trying to physically contain all the thoughts flying through his head. In contrast the other man was still leaning against the wall, arms crossed lazily across his chest as he observed the red head. 

Eventually he let out a loud sigh and Hux glanced up at him, his chapped lips pressed tightly together before a sharp hiss crossed them. The hiss drew the brunette’s attention towards his midsection where the creamy white bandages were beginning to stain with a deep red color. Only then did he realize that the redhead must’ve been gripping the blanket near his stomach and clenched his fists so tightly that the wound opened back up again.

“Maker Red!” He said quickly and ran over to him, grabbing a bag from the side of the bed and pulling out a makeshift roll of bandages. “Are you trying to make sure you have a desert burial?” He asked softly and without thinking reached out to grab the other man so he could look at how badly the wound was bleeding. 

Like a cornered animal Red bared his teeth at him and flinched back from his hand, a mixture of distrust and fear in his bright blue eyes. 

Of course he had a right to be weary, a right to think the worst of people. In a galaxy full of wolves it was hard to trust that he’d somehow managed to fall into the clutches of a sheep. Even if he was a wolf though, admittedly he was different from all the others he’d encountered. His outstretched hand didn’t force its way closer to him, instead it hovered by his arm as if waiting for his permission to come closer. 

He could see the calluses on his palms from years of gripping the harsh leather of a control stick and soft pink scars from years of doing dangerous work. There was almost something comforting that came from the slightly disheveled and rough appearance of the man in front of him. It was so different from what he was used to. Perhaps it was just the blood loss talking or the humidity making him dehydrated but for some reason he leaned forward and took his pale hand away from his stomach, allowing the mysterious man closer to him. 

The first time he felt the pressure of his hands against his clothing he took a sharp intake of breath. He was almost expecting the soft and calm touch to turn rough, to grab at his soft skin and bruise the already abused flesh. When that didn’t happen he let out a small breath of both relief and...disappointment. It would be so easy to write this off if he had to stumble his way out of here, spitting blood into the sand. He could write this person off as just one of the thousands in the universe who seemed content to use him for their own purposes and who didn’t care about him as anything more than a means to an end. This caring action didn’t fit the mold that he was used to.

The action didn’t even fit with the other types of people he’d grown used to interacting with. He wasn’t trying to suck up to him for something, nor was he taking care of him like a mentor would care for an apprentice. This was somehow more personal. He touched them like they were equals, waiting for his permission before doing anything and looking him in the eyes when needed. 

In order to change the bandages he had to take off his shirt. There was hesitation in his actions as he reached down and grabbed the bottom of it before pulling it over his head. He knew that the other man had already seen his chest and by extension had probably seen most of his body while checking him over but there was something different about it when he had to face him like this. 

His pale chest was revealed and beside him he heard a small intake of breath. From the corner of his eyes he could see the masked man’s eyes widen for a moment before calming back down. He knew his chest looked like a sick mosaic, dark purple bruises and sickly yellow marks leaving an ugly picture against his skin. He couldn’t bring himself to look back at the man and instead he turned his gaze on a point far off in the distance. He focused on a small particle of dust that was floating around the room and how the sunlight made the sand shine like glittering gold. 

“You must’ve gotten into a pretty nasty crash right?” Flyboy asked from beside him, drawing his attention back towards him.

“What?” He asked, looking confused for a moment before it suddenly dawned on him what this whole thing must’ve looked like to the other man. He found him bleeding out in a desert, bruised all over his body. It wasn’t exactly a common situation to find yourself in and it was much easier to assume that he’d been in some accident than to put together the truth from the small scraps of evidence pointing that way.

“I mean, it was fairly nasty I suppose. I don’t remember much of it at all” he lied easily through his teeth, trying to give himself a good alibi for his confusion. 

The man seemed to accept his answer easily enough, just giving him one last glance from the corner of his eyes that showed that perhaps he wasn’t exactly convinced. 

“Well, I’m just glad that I was able to get to you before you bled out” He said as he rolled up his sleeves and offered up a small smile in an attempt to break the somewhat awkward atmosphere around the two of them. 

“I am...I am rather glad as well,” Hux muttered back, taking a deep breath before a slight smile crossed his own lips. It wasn’t much, just a slight upturn of his lips as his blue eyes glanced down to the left. He looked like he wanted to say something as his pale lips parted before a sudden gasp of pain cut off whatever it was. 

“Kriff, right, bleeding” The pilot beside him chuckled nervously. “You don’t mind if I go ahead and check up on that right? No offence but I’m not exactly sure you’re in good enough shape to do this yourself” 

“Do what you need to do, just make it quick” he clipped out.

Within a few seconds he could feel the pilot’s hands gently unwrapping the bandages from around his stomach. He seemed to be careful with where his hands touched and made sure that when he was close to the wound he went slower so as to not hurt him. By the time that the wound was uncovered the bleeding had slowed down to a more manageable level and he could almost feel the relief coming off of the man beside him.

“This’ll hurt” He warned before grabbing a bottle from a bag that Hux hadn’t noticed before. The man uncapped it and almost immediately a strong smell drifted towards him. It wasn’t the sharp and clean scent that came from disinfectants he was used to. Instead the liquid had a more deep aroma to it, almost like wood mixed with some sort of baked bread. It took him a moment to place what the scent was and by the time it clicked in his mind it was too late. 

A sharp cry crossed his lips as a wet cloth was pressed against the wound, the alcohol burning at the exposed flesh and sending a sharp pain through his side. It wasn’t anything that he couldn’t handle but it certainly wasn’t pleasant either. 

The last time he’d had to deal with this sort of crude disinfecting was about a year ago after an incident with Ren that had gone too far and he ended up with a nasty cut on his back. The thought caused him to scowl, remembering how the morning after had been a frantic attempt to avoid going to the medbay by crudely taking care of the injury himself. He was fairly sure that there was still a sizable wound on his back from the whole ordeal. Granted it was probably fairly faded by now, pale and pink against his cool toned skin.

“Save some of that whiskey for me” He grumbled softly, a frown crossing his face as he finally forced himself to look over towards Flyboy properly. There was a crease of concentration between his eyes and a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. Despite his apparent focus on what he was doing, it seemed like the moment he heard his comment he perked back up. The corner of his brown eyes crinkled in amusement at the comment and his once pursed lips turned up into a grin. 

“I don’t know Red, this is pretty strong stuff” He said , grabbing the bottle and holding it up, making the amber liquid swish inside of it for emphasis. 

“Lucky for you I’m pretty strong” He replied with a slight roll of his eyes. “A stab wound didn’t kill me and I doubt that some alcohol will finish the job” he hummed.

The pilot shook his head before starting to rewrap the wound once he finished cleaning it off. He did it with the same care that he’d used to unwrap it and made sure that the bandages were tight around the wound so that they could do their job properly.

As the other man was distracted, the bottle was snatched out of his hands and in the possession of the red head. His scowl turned into a triumphant smirk as he gazed down at the liquid. He wasn’t a heavy drinker but he couldn’t deny the allure of a strong brew every once and awhile. He would never dare to get drunk on the Finalizer, there was much too much that was at stake if he got loose lipped or messy.

He wasn’t on the ship right now and he didn’t even plan on getting wasted. He just wanted a few sips of the alcohol, enough to let him feel a little tipsy. The chance to let go didn’t come around all that often and the fact that he almost died was starting to truly sink in. He needed something to help him deal with the quickly approaching existential crisis he was about to have. 

He paused for a moment before doing anything else, giving the other a chance to jump in in case the alcohol wasn’t fit to be drunk or something like that. When no objection came he put the bottle to his lips and took a swig. He could immediately feel the way that the alcohol burned on its way down his throat and how the strong flavor seemed to stick to every inch of his mouth. Whiskey like this wouldn’t have been his first choice but he would take what he could get, and take it he did. He took a few more swigs of the bottle while his wound was being finished wrapped up before slipping his shirt back on over his head. 

“Trying to forget my face already?” Flyboy teased as he watched him pick up the bottle again and take another drink. 

His comment made the other male hum, as if he was thinking about the question. 

“Just trying to forget how it won’t be long until I’m back in my normal life” He admitted eventually. His voice didn’t hold much of the sting that he’d thought it would and the words almost seemed like they fell from his lips without him being able to stop them. 

‘Well you can’t really go back to much right? I mean your ship must be trashed” Flyboy said, a sympathetic look crossing his face as he patted his shoulder, the touch startling the other out of the little trance he’d been in. 

“Ah...Yes I forgot” He muttered, his tone sobering as he slowly put down the drink. “With my luck I don’t think that will stop my...friends from finding me” 

“Friends? They don’t sound like great friends if you’re dreading their arrival” The other pointed out as he grabbed a chair from a nearby desk and sat down, having a feeling that the mysterious redhead needed this. Something told him that a man who couldn’t have been more than 35 and already had a haunted look in his eyes wasn’t exactly used to the best life. 

“I’m not a very social person, I dread the arrival of people in general” the redhead answered in a clipped tone, knowing that he should probably stop drinking at this point unless he wanted to spill his guts to this random pilot. 

“You didn’t seem to dread my arrival. Let me guess, my dashing charm has won you over?” 

“More like your dashing ability to keep me alive” 

Without his consent he felt his lips twitch upwards into a small smile. It was alarming to say the least and once he realized it he quickly forced his expression back into the carefully crafted, neutral mask that he usually wore. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten to playfully banter with someone else like this. Sure, he argued a lot with people like Ren but those always had a more serious tone to them. He knew that those arguments and witty comebacks would only end up hurting him in the end once Ren got tired of entertaining his sharp tongue. 

“But my dashing looks too right? I mean, who could resist this face?” The man grinned, the look seeming natural and genuine on his face. Apparently he was enjoying the banter as well. 

“I could think of a few people. Anyone with working eyes mainly” He hummed back with a playful tone in his voice.

The other man let out an offended huff at the comment and placed his hand dramatically over his heart as if he’d been wounded. 

“You wound my pride Red!”

“Good, I was almost afraid your ego wouldn’t fit back through the door” 

Suddenly the sound of laughter filled the room as the Pilot heard his retort. The sound was deep and loud, almost like a bark in a way. It startled Hux at first, causing him to jump and stare at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion in his blue eyes. Laughter was nothing new, he heard it often enough. Officers would chuckle to one another on their break, troopers would hold back sniggers when a comrade was being reprimanded, and even he had let out a small huff of amusement on the rare occasion. 

This sound was so different from any of those, almost so much so that he had trouble identifying it as a laugh at first. It was the type of sound that immediately drew attention towards the creator of it, leading one to notice the way that mirth shone within his eyes and the skin at the corners of them crinkled in amusement. The pure joy that radiated off the man in front of him was consuming and almost impossible to not be sucked into. Like a whirlpool in a violent sea it pulled you towards it until you were trapped at the bottom of the ocean. Except this time the ocean was a feeling of light heartedness, and domestic peacefulness.

“That was a good one Red, I’ll give you that” Flyboy said eventually, recovering from his fit of laughter after letting out a few more chuckles. 

“I didn’t think it was that funny but, I suppose you don’t hear many jokes living by yourself on this sand planet” He hummed in response. 

It was the pilot’s turn to look slightly startled before struggling to come up with a convincing answer. 

“Or maybe you’re just funnier than you realize?” He suggested, not directly addressing what Hux had claimed about him. 

Hux didn’t realize how many assumptions he’d truly made of the man in front of him until he noticed that he seemed put off by them. He liked to think that all of them were based on facts but, in reality he didn’t have much to work on. He knew the guy dressed like a Han Solo wannabe and his physical build lent itself to the assumption that he worked out in the sun a good amount and partook in a more physically laborious job. Either that or he spent a good amount of time at whatever the Jakku equivalent to a gym was. His pilot joke had been mostly that, just a joke. Not many people who didn’t live on Jakku wound up there, at least not of their own choice. 

He didn’t have much of a chance to process the fact that he had to re-evaluate his thoughts before he realized the man had just called him funny. There weren’t many things that he hadn’t experienced in his life. He’d seen the horrors of war, commanded battalions of men, set foot on more planets than most people even knew existed, and yet this was the first time someone had ever called him funny. 

His blue eyes blinked owlishly, his usual sour comments being silenced by the sweetness of the other’s words. He looked as if he didn’t truly know how to process what he said and you could almost see the gears of his mind working behind his slightly vacant gaze. 

“I...I highly doubt that I’m...Funny” He said after an awkward pause between them. He Took the chance to take another sip of the bottle he’d nearly forgotten in his lap. The burn of the alcohol was welcomed. It was such a simple feeling of pain among the complicated mess that his mind had been reduced to by the gentle and kind pilot beside him. 

“Easy there Red, much more and I’m afraid that you’ll end up drunk on me” He hummed and in a fashion similar to how he’d gotten the bottle in the first place he snatched it from him before he could react. 

“Hey! I’ve only had a few sips, my alcohol tolerance isn’t that awful” He protested, only to earn himself a skeptical look from the brunet. 

“So you saying that red face you have is from something other than alcohol?” He asked.

Hux hadn’t even noticed the blood rushing to his face, much too focused on the man in front of him and what he was saying. How long had it been like that? He wondered to himself before cursing his pale complexion for allowing it to be so easily seen. He knew that the redness in his face wasn’t from alcohol. After All it’s not like he was new to drinking in any regard and he’d never had this problem before. That meant that he’d been...blushing?

“Well...No. I suppose that stuff is stronger than i’m used to” He muttered, the lie slipping easily through his lips. 

“Don’t be ashamed Red, this stuff is fairly strong” He chuckled and leaned forward, ruffling up the red head’s hair in an affectionate act.

“You should probably grab some sleep while you still can though. Now that you’re more lucid I doubt that it’ll be too easy to sleep once it gets real hot” He warned him before getting up and walking off towards the door. “See you in a bit Red!” he called out, leaving the other man staring after him with a somewhat dumbfounded look on his face.

What the hell had just happened? He wondered to himself, still staring at the now empty doorway as he replayed the encounter in his head. When he woke up he certainly didn’t think that things would turn out this way. Hell, he hardly thought that he would wake up at all.

A part of him wished that he didn’t. 

As much as the man taking care of him seemed...kind and caring, he knew that it wouldn’t last long. It would only be a matter of time before his absence was noted and this place was crawling with Storm Troopers who were trying to find him. Once that happened it would only be a matter of time before his life was right back to being what it used to be. There would be no seeing that genuine smile aimed at him, no feeling the soft touch of someone else against his bare skin. He would be trapped back among the stars, taunted by the knowledge that it all could’ve ended here and now. 

If it weren’t for him being saved by the pilot he would be free of it all. Free from his guilty conscience, free from the abuse from Ren, free from a life he hated. For once he thought he had control over something, control over his death. Then even that had been ripped away from him in a cruel twist of fate. Now he got to live life with the vague memories of someone who’d treated him like an actual person. Someone who saw him as something other than his rank or last name. Someone who he would never meet again.

He was done with this. Done with losing control and having to fight tooth and nail for a shred of happiness and decency. The first time anyone had treated him so nicely and it took him getting stabbed on a backwater planet. The universe denied him this for too long. He wouldn’t wait for some invisible force to have mercy on him. He was finished thinking that his life would somehow have meaning more than just being another face in a history book one day. 

He clenched his teeth together and pushed himself up, pain shooting through his side and nearly making him fall back down. He did his best to ignore it and placed his feet on the floor, feeling the stone beneath him and sighing. There was almost something comforting about the imperfect surface that felt rough against the soles of his feet. He was just glad to feel something other than cold metal for once. 

He stood up after a moment of bracing himself and felt his knees buckle. He reached out and grabbed onto the wall to steady himself while a short grunt of pain escaped his lips. He gave himself a minute or so to gather his thoughts and strength before making his way towards the door, one step at a time while his lips settled into a determined grimace. 

He wished he would be able to see the look on Ren’s face when he found out about this. Would he care that his little plaything was gone? Perhaps he’d be upset for a little bit before finding another officer to toy with. Maybe he’ll have one of his famous tantrums and destroy an important part of the ship beyond repair. He highly doubted he’d be that lucky but he could imagine it, couldn’t he?

Each step that he took sent another stab of pain up his side but after a few steps he figured out how to ignore it. Instead he focused on how once he got to the doorway he could see that the house he’d been was nothing more than the ruins of an old building. Half of one wall was completely destroyed and there was sand strewn about on the floors, brought in by the wind. He couldn’t see where the pilot had gone off to but that was fine with him. He didn’t want to have to face him and explain what he was going to do. He didn’t deserve to be burdened with the mess that he carried around with him. 

It didn’t take too much longer for him to find the door. Well, no exactly door. It was a hole that was big enough for him to slip through without too much maneuvering. He stepped over some fallen stones and tried not to make too much noise as he ducked through the hole and found himself outside. 

The first thing he noticed was that there was a cool breeze blowing by, ruffling his hair and making him grin. At least it wasn’t burning out here. Something told him that if it had been in the middle of the day then the sand would’ve been unbearable to feel against his feet. He hadn’t had the energy or the foresight to go back and grab his boots from the side of his bed. It was admittedly colder than he’d thought it would be and without the lighting from inside the house it was actually hard to see more than a few feet in front of him thanks to the darkness. What was odd though was the fact that he remembered it being sunny when he’d woken up and he didn’t see a sunset. He knew that Jakku did have sunsets, so had he just missed it? 

He glanced up at the sky to double check the time and found that his blood ran cold at the sight that met him. No...He thought that he’d have more time than this! How long had he been passed out? He didn’t have time to think about that right now, not when he still had a fire boiling in his veins and a clear goal in his mind. He wouldn’t let them catch him again and he wouldn’t panic. Not even as he saw flashlights in the distance that were slowly making their way towards him. 

His hand drifted towards his side and pressed against where he knew the wound was. The pain almost sent him stumbling but he managed to stand his ground. He took a step or two forward before his foot nudged against something. He reached down and gently picked it up, running his hand over it to figure out what exactly it was. Perhaps the universe had finally decided to show him a little pity, give him one little gift. What he was holding was a scrap of metal, inconsequential to most. The thing that made this good for him was the jagged edge of it, sharp enough to cut through flesh.. 

He saw the lights getting closer and pressed the metal against his already wounded side. Let them think what they will when they find his body among the dunes, if they ever did. He didn’t care how they thought he had died or if they ever figured out it was by his own hand. 

He let out a sharp cry of pain as he started to dig the metal into his side, easily cutting through the thin fabric of his shirt and finding its home within his flesh. Hot tears of pain sprung to his eyes, which he quickly wiped away. He took a shaky breath before yanking the metal to the side, tearing open more of his skin and making him yell out in pain despite himself. With the sharp edge still buried inside him he struggled to stay on his feet. Blood poured from his side and stained the sands beneath him. He could feel his strength leaving him bit by bit and a feeling of calm washed over him. Finally it was all over. Just a few more minutes and it would all be over…

He felt his legs buckle underneath him, leaving him crashing down onto the sands without ceremony. His side collided with the ground first and on the wind he thought he heard something. Two voices shouting at the same time, hard to hear over one another. Both were male and somewhat deep. Only one brought him any sort of comfort.

“Red! No!”

“Hux! Hang on”

And then there was the sound of fire.


End file.
